


Sharing the Warmth

by KestrelShrike



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Geth, Noveria, Sharing bodyheat, cliches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 23:05:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13018074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelShrike/pseuds/KestrelShrike
Summary: Tis the season for cliche falalala.In which Garrus and Shepard are snowed in with no power.





	Sharing the Warmth

Vacations had never been a feature in Shepard’s life. Before the Reapers there had never been time, and afterward there had been so much recovery. It seemed unbelievable that she was out of the hospital now, that she even had limited mobility, with Garrus by her side. That her friends had been there was another bonus, opening up their arms and homes for when she was ready. She wasn’t though, not yet, but she was ready for a break. 

“Somewhere warm and tropical. That’s all I ask.” It was not without a sense of mischief that Shepard clicked ‘buy’ on shuttle tickets to Iceland, though her reasons ran far deeper than just giving Garrus grief. There was something about the phrase ‘swimsuit weather’ that made her cringe. The world wasn’t prepared for the scars that marred her otherwise pale skin, still so ugly and raw. Truth be told, she wasn’t ready for anyone to see them either, except for Garrus, and even that was with reluctance. 

Because nothing could ever be simple for Shepard, there was yet another undercurrent to it. There would be no Mordin gathering shells on their vacation. She could cross every shore, sail every sea, and Thane would not be somewhere just beyond the horizon. No, she wasn’t ready for the beach just yet. 

Thus they found themselves on a swift shuttle to a remote spot bound in by snow, daylight just cresting the horizon as they arrived. “Don’t get used to it,” their pilot warned. “Big storm expected tonight, but you may still see the aurora. Say, aren’t you Commander-” With that, Shepard shut the door firmly, Garrus wheeling her out across the icy stone path down to their cabin. 

While Shepard stoked a fire, relieved to get out of her chair and stretch her legs in an environment where no one would see her fall, Garrus prepared the food. It was all premade, of course- she trusted his cooking skills only a small amount over her own, which was to say not at all. Luckily, he could just about manage putting something in to be re-heated, though she heard him cursing as his talons hit the wrong buttons again and again, all of them too small for turian hands. 

Over the sound of Garrus’ increasingly creative curses, Shepard shouted out, “Garrus, it’s starting to snow. Come look!” There was already a light dusting on the ground, but now the sky was grey and heavy, the limited sunlight swiftly vanishing. There was something magical about the way the flakes fell down, the world becoming that much more silent, the tracks of her wheelchair and Garrus’ footprints vanishing swiftly as the snow began to fall in earnest. 

“Brr,” was Garrus’ response as he moved to turn up the heat by a few degrees, taking it from comfortably cool to warm, even toasty. 

“Turians have no stamina,” she scoffed in response, lighting a match carefully and watching the fire go up with a certain pride. She had made it by herself, with no help. Making things… That was something she could do with her ‘retirement.’ Yeah. Right.   
When her back was turned, Garrus swooped behind Shepard, pulling her neatly over her shoulder and carrying her to the couch. “I’m cold,” was the only explanation he offered, putting her down with considerable delicacy and settling in next to her. The power chose then to flicker, setting Garrus to pulling the heaviest down comforter he could find. “You know Shepard, this reminds me of that time on Noveria…” 

**** 

There were loose ends. There were always loose ends. Noveria wanted Shepard to collect some of the geth corpses for examination. It was simply work, almost insultingly so, but they had a valid point- if any data could be gathered, it could help prevent future attacks. It wasn’t as if there was any further danger. One crew member was really all she needed to bring with her. 

“Vakarian, get in the Mako.” 

“Why me? It’s a little bit nippy.” 

“Because you whine the most.” The smile that spread across her face was positively wicked. 

Bundled into the Mako, they headed out into a frozen world, one still littered with robotic bits and pieces. The workers would return eventually, but the roads were still blown out and blocked, making navigation treacherous for all but the most hardy vehicles. Coupled with conditions that were labelled ‘bad’ (scarcely worth thinking about on this planet), Shepard was nervous setting out, and Garrus was silent, checking his weapons again and again, shivering dramatically now and then to prove a point. 

A sudden gust of wind buffeted the vehicle, sending it rocking for a second, systems faltering and flashing red. “It’s okay. We’re rated to withstand harsher conditions-” and with that, the Mako died completely, everything going out, the only noise the howl of wind and ice hitting the windscreen. “I’ll radio in for assistance.”

“Does it feel colder already, or is that just me?” A blue scarf lay prominently on Garrus’ carapace, and he pulled it tighter around himself. 

“Shut for a minute and let me try and get the radio working.” She was good with tech; if Shepard could operate a drone, she could get a radio to work, right? 

Wrong. 

There were contingencies, of course, but in their case it was sending up a few flares and waiting for rescue. An hour or two tops. Maybe three. Not enough to die. Probably. 

But the cold descended rapidly, filling first Garrus’ bones and then her own. They shivered, sitting discretely apart and not talking, Garrus making it plenty clear what he thought about the whole situation. Shepard couldn’t entirely disagree with his assessment. The degrees of bullshit were too damn high. 

After fifteen minutes of pathetic solo shivering, she spoke up. “Look, we can share body heat. That’s it.” He shot her a look, but scooched closer so that they were almost, but not quite touching. It seemed like Shepard’s cheeks grew heated immediately, but she tried to think of anything but his proximity or the way they had been covertly looking at each other over the past few weeks. 

“No one on the Normandy has to hear about this,” Garrus reasoned, and suddenly they were touching, even if it was through layers of armor. Oh yes, they were definitely feeling quite a bit warmer. 

Another few minutes of silence. “So…” Shepard ventured, “You come here often?” Garrus’ laugh was a burst of welcome noise, breaking down some barrier that existed between them. When he slung his arm around her shoulders, she was able to convince herself that it was purely for warmth. 

Still the cold crept in, and it wasn’t long before both their eyes grew heavy. “We’re not going to freeze to death waiting for help.” Whether Shepard was trying to reassure Garrus or herself was very much up in the air. “A nap won’t hurt.” 

“I’ll stand watch. I’ve got your back, Shepard.” More warmth spread through her, and slowly her head leaned down to rest against his armor. It was as cold as anything else within the Mako, but she could still feel him radiating heat outward. As she drifted off, it seemed only natural that their bare fingers would entwine- what was one more source of contact if not another source of heat? 

They didn’t have to tell a soul.


End file.
